


after all (has been done and said)

by CloudyEquilibrium (Background_Character)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Character Death, Drabble, Gen, Random & Short, Spoilers, dammit marvel, reader is kind of an asshole to tony, written because i am dying and tony is suffering after infinity war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 23:55:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14460579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Background_Character/pseuds/CloudyEquilibrium
Summary: According to Tony Stark, some part of you died in space.





	after all (has been done and said)

You don't know when the pain started, or even how it started—you just knew that in one moment, you were in class and in the next—you were burning alive.

Granted that nobody else could see any wounds, you only guessed the cause of this all was your soulmate.

A stranger who you've never met once.

A stranger who you don't want to meet after this.

(You call yourself stupid. What kind of person wouldn't want to know who their soulmate ~~was~~ is?)

The pain climbs through your hands first, then your arms and body are next. You gasp desperately for breath, the air inside literally being sucked out by some unknown force. And then your legs go numb, with your feet soon following after. You're locked into place from the head down, but even then, you can feel the phantom fire colder than liquid nitrogen slowly crawling upwards. You scream aloud, yet the people around you don't seem to understand what you're going through.

They call for emergency services, an ambulance and a police escort, even the fire brigade for some god awful reason, all of which arrives in fifteen minutes flat.

You couldn't—breathe.

You couldn't—scream.

You couldn't—cry.

"Please, stop thrashing about!" someone yells above the panic and numerous voices.

But before you can comprehend what's going on, a supersonic boom rings out, tearing apart the walls and whitening your sight.

 

* * *

 

One of your fingers twitch.

You awaken to darkness and the rhythmic sound of a soft beep.

You lick your lips, parting them slightly as a harsh note escapes your throat.

There's a sudden start of movement from your left. Something that sounds like glass is shattered, you can hear the clinking of somebody shakily pouring (presumably) water into a cup. A whirling noise grates against your ears, but nonetheless, the unseen stranger supports you as you try to sit up slowly and gather your bearings. The aforementioned cup does happen to be filled with water, you soon find out, when it's shoved into your hands and guided to your mouth.

Greedily, you gulp it all down.

Another glass is broken.

"How are you feeling?" they ask after a moment's pause.

How are you feeling?

What kind of question is that?

Shouldn't the answer be obvious?

You feel like shit and you probably like shit, so isn't that why you're in hospital? Because shit happened? Is the sky even blue?

"Fine," you growl.

"Oh, great. Good. Yeah, uh-huh." They make a few more strange sounds before you hear a chair screech closer. "Do you even know why you're here?"

"Nope." Okay, you're being honest here, maybe. No. Yes! What? Is there going to be any sense of coherency in what little will you can muster? Probably not. "Why?" you parrot.

"Well, half of the universe is dead, we were all doomed in fourteen million futures from the start, and my son, yes, yes, can you believe it? My son! My son—granted that he isn't really my kid, biologically or legally, but who cares now anyways—IS DEAD!!" You blinked. "Oh. And probably so is everybody you love and care about." 

"Oh, woe me, um, sir... is it?"

"Sir is quite fine."

"... What does anything of what you just said have to do with me?"

"Nothing." What?

"Then why are you here—" you seize in a tight gasp, the sudden exertion of strength to reach out and grab the stranger brings forth a shock of pain, "—a-actually, who the fuck are you?"

"Glad you asked, I'm Tony Stark." You guffawed.

Tony Stark? As in _the_ Tony Stark who kind of messed up politically a while back and lost the power of friendship? _That_ Tony Stark?

"Oh, okay. Great. Yeah—no. I don't believe you."

"Kid, I don't care how much you were knocked over the head with—I just need you to look outside and believe me."

"Well, whoop-de-doo, sir. Too bad."

"Excuse me?"

"I can't seen a damn thing," you say, hysterically laughing. "Not your ugly mug, not this damn room, and certainly not whatever some idiot decided to destroy on a whim."

"Well shit."

"My thoughts exactly, Mr Stark." Something clatters to the ground abruptly, squeaky footsteps move rapidly away from you. Harsh breathing fills the air, almost as if the man had been shot right through somewhere in the heart. And you wonder why. There are only assumptions filling your head, you can't see his every move after all.  "... Mr Stark?" 

"Tony," he hisses, pain laced in his tone, like a wounded animal, "just call me Tony, please."

Everything inside of you goes numb and you don't have the power to object.

**Author's Note:**

> Hahahahahahahhaha. The hell is this even supposed to be?
> 
> I don't know.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading this and have a nice day!


End file.
